


So Long And Thanks For All The Fish

by tielan



Category: Stargate SG1
Genre: F/M, Humor, Missing Scene, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-18
Updated: 2011-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-18 08:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a letter in Jack's desk drawer that's travelled with him for four years. He's never used it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Long And Thanks For All The Fish

The original letter - the letter he drafted on the yellow paper of the SGC notepads and presented to Hammond in the gateroom - was simple and to the point. No long words, no flowery phrases, not a mention of duty or honour; just the words a man used when he told both to go to hell.

It got the job done, and Jack got the kiss.

Carter would never remember.

Jack would never forget.

\--

Fraiser was refusing to let Carter out of the infirmary for the night when Jack scraped his courage together for a visit.

Actually, Teal’c had more or less told him not to be an idiot and go and see Carter. While the Jaffa made no overt threats, it was implied that if Jack didn’t move his ass and go and see Carter, then Teal’c would drag him down to the infirmary by the scruff of his neck.

Jack went.

There were times to argue with a six-foot four, three-hundred pound Jaffa, but this was not one of them.

He found Carter thumbing through a journal of Astrophysics and making notes on one of the SGC notepads. She glanced up with a quick smile for him. “Sir.”

“Carter.” He pulled a stool alongside the bed and perched on it. The memory of another stool in another room lurked for a moment, before Jack forced it down with the practise of long years of repression. “Whatcha doin’?”

She indicated the journal. “Picking other people’s brains.”

“Your own isn’t enough for you now?”

“Well, I can’t think of everything, sir.”

The memory of all the things she hadn’t thought of while they were dealing with the electrical entity rose between them, and Jack grimaced and looked away. “Carter, about shooting you...”

“There’s nothing to forgive, sir.”

He stiffened. “Nothing? When I killed you?” In his lap, his fingers rested with subtle tension, and he suddenly wanted something on which to drum them. He would never forget pulling the trigger a second time, or the way she collapsed, suddenly so small and limp.

Her gaze lay on him, heavy, like a burden. “I’d have done the same if our positions had been reversed,” she said.

Not for the first time, Jack wondered if he’d invented those moments between them on Apophis’ ship, dreamed the zatarc machine incident, if he’d imagined her head on his shoulder down among the workers’ fires and the acknowledgement between them in Brenna’s office.

Carter had been growing careful and cautious in the last few months, unwilling to come any closer, to draw any nearer.

Jack supposed he couldn’t blame her. She had a future, after all.

They exchanged some light conversation, a few quips, but Jack excused himself after a few minutes.

As he got up to go, the creased letter in his pocket rustled slightly - barely loud enough for him to hear, but with all the weight of his future in the rustle.

When he reached his office, he pulled out the letter and stuck it in an envelope, sealed it, and tucked it away in the back of his top desk drawer.

\--

Jack hoped the commissary would be deserted, or, failing that, that it would be devoid of anyone who knew him well enough to expect him to make conversation.

Unfortunately, a large plate of fruit and several plates of dessert failed to conceal Jack from Jonas’ gaze, or Jonas from Jack’s.

He didn’t want company right now, but Jack was reluctant to snub the newest member of his team. Jonas had been a good team-mate. Reliable and solid but with a lighter, easier note to him, balancing out Teal’c’s seriousness, Carter’s intensity, Jack’s authority. Not Daniel, but that was to be expected.

“Colonel.”

“Jonas.” Jack surveyed the assortment of food. “Didn’t they feed you on Kelowna?”

Jonas grinned as he crunched his way through a bite of apple. “Dr. Fraiser thinks your food lacks the nutrients my body’s used to getting. So I end up eating more for the same result.” He glanced over the desserts. “I thought I’d take Sam some blue jello later.”

Jack tried not to resent the comfortable ease his newest team member shared with Carter. “How’s she doing?”

“Grumpy,” the younger man murmured, before taking another bite.

“Yeah, well, Carter doesn’t do inaction very well.”

Jonas took a while to answer, although he had more than enough time to finish his mouthful and take another bit. When Jack looked up from his plate of chocolate cake, the younger man was watching him.

“What?” It was more snappy than he intended, but Jack had seen that look before. He was pretty sure he could guess what was coming.

“Nothing.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Jonas.”

“You won’t like it,” Jonas warned.

“Do I ever?”

It took another minute before Jonas asked in a lowered voice. “Have you ever considered resigning?”

This wasn’t Daniel with his anxiety over SG-1 and the integrity of the family he’d found. It wasn’t Teal’c with his people’s future freedom at the forefront of his thoughts and action. It wasn’t Hammond walking the careful line between superior officer with fraternisations concerns and older mentor with a care for the well-being of his people.

This was Jonas, with his easy, open face, his eyes steady on Jack’s face as he waited for Jack’s answer.

It was impudence, plain and simple. But there was an honesty to it, a simplicity that Jack yearned for. Jonas didn’t complicate things - rather like Daniel - taking the most direct path. It hadn’t occurred to him to dissemble to Nirrti for instance. On the other hand, Jonas’ life had been relatively uncomplicated until he was faced with the choice to follow the party line or make a difference.

Jack considered how much he could say, how much he could get away with saying.

He settled for, “It’s not that easy.”

“But you’ve considered it.”

He thought of the letter that was still shoved deep in his desk drawer and made an admission he’d never made to anyone before.

“Yes.”

\--

He went back up to the infirmary after they’d seen the Tok’ra off.

“Look after her, Jack.” Jacob Carter had said as the wormhole formed over the Stargate.

Jack’s response had been automatic and betraying. “I always do.”

Carter’s dad had given him a long, steady look with a hint of a smile - Carter’s smile, amused but not quite showing it. And that had been it before the Tok'ra walked up the ramp and through the gate.

Janet had drawn the screen around Carter’s bed, giving her a semblance of privacy. No-one gave Jack a second look as he slipped behind the screen and pulled up his stool beside his sleeping team-mate. It wasn’t unknown for him to keep vigil beside his team-mates, no matter which one was injured.

Of course, this was Carter.

As he settled down, Jack reflected that he and this stool were growing familiar again. He'd spent an hour or so on it after Carter returned from the nebula cloud that had caused such trouble on the _Prometheus_ , quietly thinking through the same thoughts that were going through his head now.

He’d taken the envelope out of his drawer the night after she’d woken up and called him by name. It had rested thoughtfully on his desk for nearly thirty minutes, the blank-faced envelope worn and dog-eared. Then Hammond had come by and Jack had hastily shoved the letter under a load of paperwork. It went back in the drawer the next day.

The temptation to bring it out loomed yet again. Harder and harsher than it ever had before.

Something in him insisted he’d done his duty. Seven years was a long time in any assignment, and these seven years hadn’t only been long, but busy as well. Something in Jack insisted he deserved a happy ending.

But it wasn’t only up to him. It never had been.

He exhaled in a long, slow breath that hissed out from between his lips.

He’d invited her to cross the line the only way he knew how. Over the years, he’d issued invitation after invitation and she’d never taken him up. Crises, hedging, excuses, diversions...ultimately, the answer had always been ‘no’.

Carter stirred, turning her head. “Sir?” The address came out almost before she’d opened her eyes to see who was there.

The last time she’d woken from unconsciousness, she’d used his name and he’d been shocked enough to question it. Stupid.

This time, the lines were drawn again; Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter, and never the twain should meet.

“Yeah, Carter.” Jack shifted on the chair as her eyes met his. “It’s just me.”

She stared at him a moment, bleary-eyed, then nodded slowly. “Dad’s gone?”

 _Look after her, Jack._

“Yeah. He’s gone.”

 _But I’m here._

\--

Jack stopped by Carter’s office that afternoon and found her poring over what looked like gate statistics.

“Having fun?”

She didn’t glance up as he entered the room, although she did when he sat down in the chair on the other side of her desk. “Just looking through the data we got from Anubis’ dial-in.”

He studied her a moment. “Does it matter what we got?”

“Well, according to what Daniel was able to tell us, Anubis won’t be doing that again anytime soon,” Carter said, her pen poised over a line of numbers on the page, “But I wanted to compare the power output of the gate this time with the power output back when we used the all-gates connection against the Replicators, and the first time Ba’al used it against us.”

“And that would be because...?”

“Well, it gives us an idea of the situations in which it might be used in the future. As well as possibly a way to stop it from happening again - a trace program that cancels an all-gates command... It may not be possible, but I thought I might as well look into it. It’s been used against us twice already.” She shrugged and set the pen down, stretching her arms out and twisting her body from side to side. “What brings you here, sir?”

He watched the light of her desk lamp gleam off the barrel of her pen. “You know I’m headed up to the cabin next week,” he said lightly. “Daniel and Teal’c have agreed to come.”

“Agreed?”

Jack glanced up, sheepishly. “Hey, they said yes!” _Which is more than you’ve done so far._ He hadn’t invited her - yet - mostly because he’d wanted to make sure that all his ducks were lined up before he tried this.

“I heard that you bribed Daniel with the prospect of going to Atlantis,” she said in dulcet tones.

“Carter, I said I’d consider letting him run off to Atlantis while I was up there! That’s all.” Of course, Jack _had_ phrased it in a way that suggested that Daniel’s chances would be considerably better if Daniel came up to the cabin.

The look in Carter’s eyes suggested that she knew this. “And Teal’c?”

“Teal’c came of his own accord,” Jack retorted, ignoring the fact that Teal’c had merely said, “ _I will consider it, O’Neill..._ ” By which Jack understood that Teal’c wouldn’t go unless there was someone else to take the edge off Jack’s obsession with fishing.

Carter lifted her eyebrows but only asked, “Is that an invitation, sir?”

This time, he met her gaze square on. “Is that an acceptance, Carter?”

During the few seconds that their gazes locked, Jack felt his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn’t made such an open invitation in a couple of years now. And she’d never accepted it before this.

Then she smiled. “Daniel and Teal’c are going?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Jack picked himself off the desk, and was relieved he didn’t have to pick his jaw off the floor. “Cool.”

It was a start.

\--

“Sir?”

Jack didn’t look up from the things he was fishing out of his desk. “Sorry, Carter, he’s not here right now. He finished work an hour ago.”

“But he hasn’t gone home yet?” She leaned her shoulder on the door rather than come all the way into the room. Jack couldn’t blame her. The room was full of boxes, the desk was covered with pens and paperclips and post-it notes, and...other stuff from the top drawer of Jack’s desk. “Does he have any plans for dinner?”

Jack eyed her. “I don’t know, _does_ he have plans for dinner?”

Carter came in and closed the door behind her, picking up one of the packing boxes and putting it to one side before glancing around the room. “Shouldn’t your aides be doing this?”

“They did most of it, already,” Jack said. “I just didn’t want them going through my desk drawer.” He picked out the St. Christopher’s medal from the flotsam that had tumbled out of the drawer, dropping that in his shirt pocket before picking out the loose change that had somehow ended up in the drawer. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere over Utah right now?”

“We finished testing early and I got an earlier flight in,” she said, reaching out to snag an old yo-yo, discarded because the string had been too knotted for Jack to untangle. “Besides, Teal’c wanted to ask me something before he heads back to Dakara.”

“Did he?”

“Yes.” But she didn’t offer any more information. Jack had a feeling that it was something to do with the female Jaffa warriors and their role in the newly-created Nation of free Jaffa.

They fell into an easy silence. For a little while, there was no noise but the clatter of Jack fishing out the odds and ends that he’d stuffed in his drawers among the stationary. Then Carter made a noise of triumph and tugged out the last knot in the yo-yo’s string.

“I was just going to throw it out,” Jack commented as she began winding the string back around the body.

“Now you don’t have to,” she said as she set the yo-yo down on the table. “Next?”

He indicated the pile of papers and things to one side, and Carter planted one elbow on the desk as she pulled it over and began sorting through the stuff. None of it was particularly secret - notes and scribbles and other things Jack had stashed away over the years and never sorted through. Carter would have a good idea of what to turf and what to keep.

Jack began sweeping the collection of pens, pencils, erasers, and highlighters back into the drawer. Landry could decide whether he’d want them or not - and whether they worked or not.

He paused over the eight foot long paperclip chain he’d created from eight boxes of paperclips while reading over the SGC reports, then added that to the drawer, too. At least the new General wouldn’t find himself without paperclips in a hurry.

Then he sat back in his chair and watched Carter as she pulled out old photographs and receipt slips from amidst the scrappy sheets of notepaper. She didn’t give any sign that she knew he was watching, but he knew she knew.

“Valentino’s for dinner?”

He’d been going to suggest O’Malley’s, but if she wanted Italian, then it was her call. “Sure. Call ahead and book?”

“Friday night. We probably should.”

“Four or two?”

“We can do four,” Carter said, glancing up from a photo of Daniel fast asleep on a deck chair at some SGC barbecue, the floppy brim of his hat covering all of his face but his chin, the hand-written sign ‘ _Archaeologist at work_ ’ perched precariously on top. Her smile snaked out, wicked and brilliant. “Just as long as breakfast is only for two.”

“Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about that.” Jack called Daniel and Teal’c, then Valentino’s. Keeping their relationship quiet was one thing, excluding their team-mates another. When he hung up, Carter was holding up an envelope with a quizzical expression on her face.

Why he’d kept it, Jack didn’t know, especially not after she’d gotten engaged to Shanahan. Oh, Jack could pick from a dozen reasons to retire, but this letter had always been specific to one reason that went by the name of Sam Carter. If it had been any other reason, he’d have written another one.

He took it from her hand, his fingertips brushing over the crumbling edges of the envelope as he turned it over. An old friend that had travelled with him through four years, in the end, it had been a one-purpose letter.

In the end, it wasn’t needed.

Jack handed it back to her and smiled faintly. “You can open it.”

She eyed him cautiously, then slid her finger under the envelope flap and opened it up. The paper unfolded a little stiffly, but took no more than a few seconds to read.

One brow arched. “How long have you had this?”

Jack sat back. “Four years.”

The other brow arched to mirror its twin. “ _Four years_?”

He didn’t know why it was that surprising. “I never used it.”

“I can see that,” Carter said, half-amused, half-exasperated.

Then Jack remembered the one time he _had_ used it, and grinned to himself. Unfortunately, Carter spotted that as well.

“Jack...”

“Okay, I used it once before.”

“When?”

He hesitated. Even after the cabin, during their lazy, intermittent conversations of that week, Jack had never mentioned that kiss. Not the one with her counterpart, or under the influence of the prehistoric virus, but actually _her_ \- and she’d kissed him back.

Carter was watching him, and at last he answered. “Do you remember the incident with the time loops Teal’c and I experienced?”

“Yes.”

“Daniel asked if I’d thought about doing...things I wouldn’t usually do - because time always reset itself.”

It only took her a second to make the jump. Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Jack...”

“I resigned first!”

“And that makes a difference?”

“It did to me.”

Carter frowned slightly, but let it go. Smart cookie that she was, she understood why he’d done it - understood why he’d resigned first, even when no-one would ever remember it.

She turned the letter over again, thoughtfully, and folded it into her pocket. “I think I’ll keep this.”

Jack figured she was welcome to it.

Fifteen minutes later, with a box of Jack’s personal effects, and his office still being packed for the move to the Pentagon, they were on their way out of the mountain to join their team-mates for dinner.

\--

 _George,_

 _I am resigning from the United States Air Force, effective immediately._

 _So long and thanks for all the fish!_

 _Jack O’Neill._


End file.
